


The Cliffs of Delphi: Patience

by GreyLiliy



Series: The Cliffs Of Delphi [10]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Clothing, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 09:39:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1261618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Pharma wanted to do was get his work done. A little bit of accounting. That was all. He wasn’t expecting Tarn to show up, and certainly not looking like that. Now Pharma wants something else, and he’ll die before he asks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cliffs of Delphi: Patience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rothinsel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rothinsel/gifts).



Pharma had his nose buried in the books. Accounting. Now there was something he wished he could hand off to some other simpleton, but alas, it fell to him to crunch numbers. How much were they spending. How much would he have to ask of Tarn at the start of the next quarter. Pharma rubbed between his eyes, and tallied the total cost of medical supplies for the week.

It was a necessary evil.

Not unlike the evil that entered Pharma’s office not two seconds ago.

Pharma had yet to look up at him. It was Tarn. It was always Tarn, and the man was already hanging his coat on the hook. Pharma didn’t need to look at him to know that.

“Doctor,” Tarn said, heavily through a tired sigh. Pharma heard him collapse on his coach, and the shift of his feet on the stone floor. “I see you’re rather busy this evening.”

Pharma grunted in reply, and flipped the next page. Numbers, and more numbers filled his view, and he hunched harder over the book. He had to concentrate and get this done before Tarn suggested something else. Pharma gripped his ink pen tighter as he dipped it in the well, and scratched out another few numbers.

“May I ask what’s so interesting?”

“Bookkeeping,” Pharma answered, voice clipped. He groped across the desk for his arithmometer and dragged it across the desk. “I’m almost done.”

“Then you won’t mind if I help myself to a drink while I wait,” Tarn smiled. Pharma heard the couch creak as he stood. The cabinet opened, and the clink of bottles was a familiar sound. “Though I hope you’re not lying. I’m just passing through tonight, I’m afraid. I promised Kaon I’d have breakfast in the morning, so I’ll have to leave in an hour to make it home in time.”

“Shame,” Pharma said. He smiled to himself and bit the side of his lip.

“You sound so disappointed. If you’re not careful you might hurt my feelings, dear doctor. I’d think you wouldn’t want to see me,” Tarn said, his voice rumbling in amusement. Liquid poured into a glass, and then a slight tink of glass against glass. “Forgive me, would you like a drink?”

“Perhaps after—” Pharma looked up, and his voice caught in his throat. 

Tarn was dressed in black. A crisp evening suit, complete with tails. The lines hugged his broad frame, the slacks fitting all the way down to his spat-covered shoes, and the black vest was tight. The white button-up shirt—plain and flat, to match the latest fashions, none of that ruffled nonsense—underneath it all was crisp and straight, and the small white bow-tie that held the collar together was the perfect addition to the outfit.

Pharma snapped his pen in half.

“Something wrong, doctor?” Tarn asked, turning around to place Pharma’s drink on the edge of his desk.

“No, no,” Pharma said, shoving his pen under the table, as if he hadn’t broken it. “Nothing, at all. Thank you for the drink.”

The doctor snatched it up and took a quick sip. His eyes locked on the first number he saw in his book, and he forced himself to calm down.

Tarn in black tie.

Tarn in bloody _black tie._

“Is that suit new?” Pharma asked, looking around for a new pen. He heard the creak of his sofa again and almost breathed out a relaxed breath. Tarn was across the room. No accidental glances here! “I don’t think I’ve seen it.”

“I was at the opera tonight,” Tarn said, shifting in his seat. Pharma could almost see the fabric shifting across his frame. He shook his head and tried to concentrate on the numbers on his page. “I don’t normally get this dressed up, but my boss was attending tonight and I had to look my best.”

“That would make sense,” Pharma said. “Was it good?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Tarn said, huffing. “I got stuck discussing business with an associate and it rather ruined the evening, to be honest.”

“Business can do that,” Pharma said, cursing his own. He bit the edge of his lip.

_Screw it._

Pharma scribbled down a few random numbers in quick succession and closed the book. He stood and grabbed his drink from the end of the table. Pharma looked up, and nearly whimpered at the sight of Tarn leaning with his head back. The man looked exhausted, but…that suit. It was horrible.

He shook his head, and straightened his expression. Tarn was leaving in an hour. Pharma could wait it out. He’d be fine. And then he’d take some private time to himself to take care of his currently developing problem.

So Pharma had best look while he could.

Pharma sat next to Tarn on the couch, and crossed his legs. He sipped his drink and tapped his fingers on his thigh.

“All done?” Tarn asked, dropping his arm around the back of the couch. He didn’t touch Pharma, though his cufflinks tapped against the couch. “You were right, that didn’t take long at all.”

“I’d been working on it most of the evening,” Pharma said. Tarn sipped at the drink and sighed happily. “Didn’t have much time this morning.”

“I wouldn’t imagine,” Tarn said. He pulled at his tie a bit, and adjusted the sides of his dress coat. “You do keep busy all day.”

“Yes,” Pharma said. He sat up straighter, and twisted the glass in his hand. “So, breakfast with Kaon?”

“Yes,” Tarn chuckled. He brushed his hand through his hair, and grinned. Pharma could see just a pinch of his scars through the thick make-up, now that he knew where to look for them. They stretched with his smile, and Pharma’s mouth went dry. “He’s been begging for me to have breakfast with him again for weeks. He said I spent too much time here.”

“He’s not wrong,” Pharma huffed. He tapped his fingers on the edge of the glass, and shifted his foot back. “You do spend far too many nights here. Miss Aid can’t make your breakfast every morning.”

“She makes yours,” Tarn said, tapping his finger on the edge of the couch. “What’s one more?”

“Ha,” Pharma said. “Just one more.”

“I’m technically paying for it in a round-about way, so why not?” Tarn laughed.

The older man sighed heavily, and slipped up and off the couch. The cushion bounced with the loss of weight and Pharma looked over. Tarn put his drink on the counter and stretched out his shoulder, flapping the tails of his coat in the air from the movement of the jacket. He pressed the fabric down, and Pharma got a good look at just how well those straight lines hugged his figure. Tarn headed for the office door and plucked his winter coat off the rack.

“Tarn?” Pharma asked.

“It seems my hour is up,” Tarn said, shrugging into the coat. “I’m surprised you weren’t counting the seconds until I left.”

“I didn’t realize that much time had passed, to be honest,” Pharma said, standing. He put his own glass down, and crossed the room toward Tarn. “Why don’t I walk you to the front door?”

Tarn looked over his shoulder, and lifted an eyebrow but said nothing. “If you like.”

Pharma loosened his collar, and undid the top button as he walked along Tarn toward the main door of the asylum. It was only a couple hallways down from his office, but the trip seemed far too short. Pharma sighed.

Tarn reached the front door, and mirrored his sigh. The man shrugged off his heavy winter coat and dropped it on the hanger next to the door.

“Is something wrong?” Pharma asked, taking a step back.

“Pharma,” Tarn said, smiling softly. “If you wanted something, all you had to do was ask.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pharma said quickly, face flushing. He took a step back from the far, far too kind look on Tarn’s face. It was too fond. “I don’t want anything.”

Tarn pulled Pharma toward him, and turned so that Pharma’s back was against the door. Tarn leaned over him, looking down. He stroked a hand from the top of his jacket lapel, and smoothed it down to the bottom before placing his hand on the door next to Pharma’s shoulder. “Not a thing?”

Pharma growled, and buried his hands in Tarn’s jacket. He yanked down and kissed Tarn hard on the mouth, and kept kissing even as the bitter taste of powder touched his lips. 

“How long were you waiting to do that?” Tarn chuckled into his mouth. He snuck his hand into Pharma’s and dragged his thumb in circles around a smudge of ink. “Since you broke your pen?”

“You’re horrible,” Pharma snarled. He jumped up and wrapped his arms around Tarn’s shoulders, and put his foot on Tarn’s knee to push himself up. Pharma kissed him harder, digging his fingers into the back of that amazing suit fabric. “You knew that entire time and wasted an hour!”

Tarn held to the back of Pharma’s thighs and pressed him into the doorway as he hugged the smaller man closer. He kissed Pharma, licking his lips and biting the edges in small nips. “Maybe I was waiting for you to ask. I can be very patient when I need to be.”

“Monster,” Pharma hissed. He slipped a hand up into Tarn’s hair, and huffed. “Like I ever would.”

Tarn stopped, and pulled Pharma off the way a child stops hugging a cat. He put Pharma on his feet, and knelt down until he was on both of his knees. Tarn kissed Pharma’s chest, and worked his way down until he reached Pharma’s belt.

 _Oh,_ Pharma thought to himself. Tarn was in a good mood if that were the—he stopped. Pharma swallowed, “Tarn?”

“I believe, that you were hinting earlier that you wanted something?” Tarn said, holding Pharma’s hips in both of his hands. He squeezed, digging his thumbs into the hip bones. He hummed happily, nipping the edge of Pharma’s belt loop. “What was it?”

“Tarn,” Pharma choked. He tried to wriggle away, but the older man’s grip was too strong. He whimpered, and grabbed Tarn’s shoulders to brace himself. “Stop fooling around!”

“Who’s fooling around?” Tarn asked. He pulled open the belt loop with his teeth and breathed heavily on the fabric just beyond it. His hot breath was capped with a kiss to the front of his trouser button. “I’m patiently waiting for you to ask for what you want, so I can give you exactly what you desire.”

“You’re horrible,” Pharma said, biting the edge of his lip. His breath increased as his body grew hot. His feet scraped against the stone floor, and his back squirmed against the wood of the door. “We’re in the hallway.”

“So we are,” Tarn said. He squeezed Pharma’s hips and nuzzled the front of Pharma’s hips. “Then perhaps you should hurry.”

Tarn’s husky voice, combined with him on his _knees_ in that wretched black suit was too much for Pharma to bear. His heart pulsed in time with the aching, burning that pooled below his belly like a fire. Pharma curled over, and wrapped his arms around Tarn’s shoulders. He rested his chest against the back of Tarn’s head, and squirmed.

“Tarn, I’m begging you,” Pharma pleaded. He squeezed, twisting his fingers into Tarn’s suit jacket. The black fabric turned in his fingers and Pharma buried his head into the fabric. “Don’t tease.”

“All you have to do is ask,” Tarn repeated, kissing his lips into the fabric again. He pressed hard, rubbing against the flesh beyond the cloth barrier. “That’s all.”

“Tarn, please,” Pharma whimpered. "Please.”

“Please,” Tarn bit the fabric, “what?”

“Don’t make me say it,” Pharma closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. His legs trembled, and he was grateful that Tarn was keeping him upright. If the man let go, he’d surely collapse into a melted, feverish puddle. “It’s so crude.”

“Please what?” Tarn repeated, not moving. Not moving an inch closer or harder.

“M-mouth,” Pharma whispered. “Your mouth. Please.”

“To do what?” Tarn squeezed Pharma’s hips, and pressed his face into Pharma’s hip. His make-up left smears on his trouser leg, and Pharma moaned. “Be specific, dear boy.”

Pharma shook his head, sucked in a breath and shouted, “I want you to use your mouth to shame me! Please!”

“I’m not sure I’d put it quite like that,” Tarn laughed, unbuttoning the front of Pharma’s pants. He pushed aside the pants underneath, and kissed the first little trail of red hair he saw. “But close enough.”

“Tarn!” Pharma yelped, as the monster went to work. He shook, trembling limbs clinging to Tarn like he’d die if his mouth ever left his flesh exposed to the cold air again. “Please, like that. More.”

Tarn didn’t answer, but continued to hum happily—content to reduce Pharma to a squirming wreck of a man, clinging to him like a child. Tarn shifted, pushing Pharma up higher against the door as he licked and sucked. The squelching sound loud in Pharma’s ears as he whimpered quietly against Tarn’s back. It didn’t take long.

Not long at all.

Pharma’s vision blacked out in a flash of white as he finished, and Tarn’s laughter echoed in his ears like a far off noise in the distance. He slumped against the older man, breathing heavily and clutching tightly to black fabric. Pharma heaved, unable to do much more than hold on.

“The things I do for you,” Tarn chuckled. He stood, keeping his hold on Pharma. Tarn held the doctor against him, so that Pharma’s head rested on his shoulder. He carried Pharma back down the hallway toward the back bedrooms. “Just imagine what we would have had time for if you’d asked earlier.”

“Shut up,” Pharma mumbled, burying his face into Tarn’s neck. “You’re horrible. How dare you look so damned good in a suit.”

“I’ll have to wear it more often,” Tarn said, pushing his shoulder into Pharma’s bedroom door. “But for now, I think it’s time I put you to bed.”

Pharma grunted as Tarn dropped him on the bed, his back hitting the fabric. Pharma glared pulling his shirt down with a huff over his still open trousers. “I’m not a child.”

“Believe me, that I know,” Tarn said. He pulled himself up on the edge of the mattress, and loosened his bow tie until he could slip it off. “Which is why tucking _you_ in for bed, will involve quite a bit more than a bed time story and a glass of milk.”

Pharma turned and curled over on his side as Tarn crawled across the mattress until he was lying on top of the much smaller man. He kissed the back of Pharma’s head, nose buried in the red hair and slid his hand down Pharma’s side until his fingers worked their way into the loosened belt. His weight pressed Pharma down into the mattress, and he arched his back to curve into the solid chest behind him.

The doctor asked, even though he knew the answer, “What are you doing?”

“I’ve been patient enough,” Tarn said. He growled, turning Pharma’s head back to kiss him hard on the mouth. “Now it’s my turn.”

“Fine,” Pharma breathed, tugging the top of his shirt open. “One condition.”

“And what would that be?” Tarn asked with a chuckle.

“Would you keep the suit on?”

Tarn laughed, crushing Pharma in a hug against him. He kissed the side of his neck and whispered, “Of course. All you have to do is ask.”


End file.
